(( Open to Anyone ))

[thomas_small]

Ororo kept her word about pleasant weather. Sunny, warm enough that even he can feel it, comfortably dry even after the recent snows, and windless. And it is good to be out of that boxy little apartment, even though he doesn't feel safe out here. He doesn't feel safe anywhere. Yesterday he was so certain someone was lying in wait for him on the

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[ororo_munroe]

Ororo strolled down one of the more favorably remote areas of the park, needing to escape the intrusive noise of the city and the empty answers of her loft. But the sight of a pale rugged face with a shock of black hair, pulled her up short.

"Thomas?"

She'd promised Tom Cassidy the sun, but hadn't really expected him to be here to take advantage of it. This was the first time she'd glimpsed him, since...since Then, and her emotional walls rose to shie away from the memory of the day.

[thomas_small]

Her voice startles him from plotting three things at once (how to kill Dr. Yahiro, how to irritate the hell out of Graydon Creed, and how to get ahold of the man a few hundred yards away from him's wallet, not necessarily in that order).

"I honestly didn't expect to see you here." He waves her over to come next to him with a heavily-bandaged hand. Casual conversation, he can manage. "You managed some very nice weather."

[ororo_munroe]

"I truly did not anticipate you, either." There weren't that many people around at the moment, but the man still manages to appear as if he's casing the park. She doesn't conceal the smirk on her face from that thought.

He surprises her with his implicit invitation to join him at the moment, but she proceeds to after a small hesitation, and looks out to the blue sky. "This is not my doing, Thomas. I cannot claim today. I needed the air, and thought to take advantage of a natural gift, while my control is still lacking."

[thomas_small]

"Still a bit shaken by it?" He tries to pretend he isn't. The dark rings around his eyes and the pain in his hands suggests otherwise. "Regardless, it's a good coincidence. You should just take credit for it."

She's looking better, not walking as if she's pained, at least. "How is your back?"

[ororo_munroe]

((In strange continuance from here, because they're gluttons for punishment. Really.))

Dusk had arrived and dark clouds with it, and Ororo Munroe found herself once more walking -or rather, flying- into the old lion's den. Her skin was coated in light drizzle from the clouds, but the brown bag she carried was hot and wafting mouth-watering scents.

She knocked firmly on the door and waited.

[thomas_small]

He's forgotten she's coming, and so he's more than a little surprised when he looks through the peephole and sees her there. He opens the door a crack, then satisfied she's alone opens it enough for her to come in. "Come in."

He retreats back in, taking care not to trip over the spare bucket of yellow paint on the floor and bag of instant plaster. Theresa's going to be suspicious of why he's repainting the bathroom, but it's faster than waiting for a repair service. "What kind of soup did you bring?"

[ororo_munroe]

A brow raises at him in curiosity at his much more disheveled appearance that contrasted with earlier in the park, but she proceeds inside cautiously. The smell of fresh paint hits her nose, but doesn't say anything about it yet.

"I brought Dim Sum, hot and sour soup, and fried rice just incase. The chicken is for myself. Where should I put this?"

[thomas_small]

"The counter's fine. I cleaned it up, it was mostly ash damage." He returns to the doorway long enough to click the three locks on it over. "Hot and sour soup sounds lovely. Could you put the Dim Sum in the refridgerator? I'll be there in a moment." He tries to inconspicuously shove the plaster bag into the hall closet.

"The service wasn't too horrible there, was it?"